Alpha Quadrant
by InterestinglySherlock
Summary: The Borg attacked Earth the very day Kirk was named Captain of the Enterprise. For seven years, the Enterprise has been living on the edge, as the Borg slowly take over the galaxy. Kirk would do anything to save an assimilated Spock, but it looks like a losing game-until one woman changes everything.


It was an old cliché, but true. They came without warning.

Two hours. He had been Captain of the Enterprise two hours, when everything turned to crap.

Not a few hundred thousand miles from the moon's orbit, a large, gray cube simply appeared. Later on they'd discovered some kind of temporal signature...they'd come from the future. Clearly, considering that their weaponry and technology sliced through Starfleet's defenses like a hot knife through butter. It was only by quick thinking, and a hefty amount of luck, that the Enterprise was able to escape just in time.

Kirk scratched an itch on his grizzled chin, as he sat in the chair. He hated himself a thousand times over for...for that. He shuddered involuntarily as he remembered looking at the more recent satellite images of earth. The entire planet looked like it had been...diseased. Instead of blue, it was now a sickly yellow-green, and the continents were covered in structures. The Borg were truly parasites.

"Captain?"

He snapped out of his reverie, when he realized that Uhura was standing over his chair with a datapad in hand. She was wearing a tight leather jacket and jeans, that looked quite good on her, if he did say so himself, even though a more...remote part of himself missed the cute miniskirts that were Starfleet standard. "Yes, Uhura?"

He hadn't called her Lieutenant in seven years. Oh certainly, a hierarchy still existed on the Enterprise, but things were a bit more...lax, even if their duties were mostly the same. Kirk was still Captain, and Spock was...

Spock was...

His stomach turned and he had to push the memory out of his mind. If there was one thing he learned from his Vulcan friend, it was that there were appropriate times to feel...and appropriate times not to.

"The report from the Ferengi that we met a couple hours ago, was that the entire Drenaddi system has been taken."

"What'd you have to give up to get that information from them?" he smirked. "Nothing too valuable, I hope."

She echoed his smirk. "Scotty convinced them that two bags of discarded laundry were heirlooms from an ancient royal family on earth."

Wasn't it sad, that they could actually get away with that now? Petty trading for earth artifacts had gone through the roof.

"I hope there was an extra-ripe stash of socks in there," he said as she walked away to her station.

"They wouldn't notice," she said without missing a beat, sitting down and going to work decoding the garbled subspace traffic that would let them know where the Borg hadn't taken over yet. There were less and less places to hide, now. Still, the Enterprise was an excellent match for smaller skirmishes, but without a spacedock to limp to every time they got into battle, he had to pick his fights wisely. They'd even come up with a special modulating frequency on their phaser banks that allowed them at least ten good hits before the Borg adapted. Spock had figured that one out...

Again, he pushed it out of his mind. "Sulu, scratch the Drenaddi system off of our 'good' list."

There was a sigh from the helm. Sulu turned to look at him, the deep scar that had nearly taken his left eye furrowed along with his eyebrows. "That's a seriously big piece of real estate, Captain. Getting around that is not gonna be pretty."

"I know," Kirk leaned forward. "That sector's getting too tight for my liking. Think we oughta call it a wash?"

"Might as well. Getting around the Drenaddi system brings us way too close Alpha Rexus II and Threed Talen, and we'll hit patrols every time. I don't think it's worth it."

Kirk sat back, rubbing his forehead. "Blast it. We just lost ten of our trading posts."

"We could alvays try the Delta Quadrant," Chekov piped up from his station. He turned around as well, accidentally knocking over his leather jacket, hanging on the back of the chair. He leaned over to pick it up. Kirk remembered when he was just a kid...this war, if you could even call it that, had been hard on them all.

"We don't know what's _in_ the Delta Quadrant," Kirk said, a little tired of having this conversation. It was popular amongst the crew, as if the Delta Quadrant was an oasis in a galaxy full of rapidly-spreading mindless drones. "It's very possible that the Borg themselves might have even come from there."

"We don't have any proof of that," Chekov said, his accent still strong, but clearer than it was when he first met him. "This Quadrant is now at least 78% Borg territory. If Mr. Spock were here, he would tell us that it is only a matter of time that-"

Kirk suddenly stood up, his voice cracking angrily across the room. "We're _staying_ in the Alpha Quadrant, and I don't want to hear any more about leaving. _That's_ an order!"

Everyone stared at him. He heard an almost imperceptible "Jim" behind him, and whirled around. Bones was standing in the turbolift. Must have just got there.

Something in Kirk's stance deflated, and he felt the tiniest bit bad for snapping.

"Wanna get somethin' to eat?" Bones said, casually, as the members of the Bridge crew tried to keep their eyes on their stations, but were failing quite obviously.

"...yeah. Yeah, sure. Sulu, you have the conn," he said slowly. "I'll be in the galley if you need me."

* * *

Neither of them were really hungry, Kirk figured, as they both stared out of the window at the stars whipping by. Kirk had a cup of coffee in his hand, it always made him feel better, but now it was shaking.

"Jim, it's two years today, isn't it?"

"Yesterday," he said, keeping his eyes firmly planted on the stars.

"Look, I know you're not gonna listen to me," Bones said with a sigh. He was the only one who still really wore a uniform while working because his medical clothes were the only ones he swore were sterile enough to use in sick bay, despite what the Ferengi said about the newest anti-microbial clothes out of Yodrasia. It was a bit comforting to see him in that old Starfleet blue. "But there is nothin' wrong with takin' a little R & R to yourself. You know. Say goodbye."

There was fire in those blue eyes as he turned to his friend. "I'm _not _saying goodbye."

"Jim, he's _gone_. There is nothin' you can do about it!"

"He's not _gone_. He's still there!"

"And he'd assimilate you six ways to Sunday if he caught ya! Listen to yourself, Jim, you're obsessed!"

"He's my _friend_, Bones. My friend, and your friend too. Do you think he'd give up on us? Do you?" Kirk was in his face now. He slammed the cup of coffee down on the nearest table, spilling its contents.

"Actually _yes, _I think he would. He'd grieve, however Vulcans grieve, and then he'd move on. It'd be the logical thing to do. He'd be mad—if you can call it mad—at you for mopin' around! He'd take the ship, gather as many people as he could, and get the heck out of th' Alpha Quadrant. There is _nothing _left here, Jim. _Nothing_. Nothing except death and assimilation, if we stay. Do you want that, Jim? Do you want _us, _your crew, to be assimilated because you can't let _go_?"

That got to him. Jim felt like slugging Bones right then and there, for the simple reason he was right. He slammed his fist against the window, and leaned against it.

The Captain's voice was gone, and all that was left was a lost, nearly-broken man. "I can't let go...Bones. Because if I let go...then that means we lost. That means we got beat. That means Spock is dead."

"We _did _get beat, Jim. We got beat bad."

"But that's just it," he turned around, his blue eyes flashing with anger and passion and a bit of madness, probably. "We have to try. Can you live with yourself if you turned tail and ran-"

"Yes, I would—because I'd still be _alive_. This isn't a game, or a contest. You have people under your care. We could find ourselves a planet and settle down-"

"And then what? Wait for the Borg to arrive and assimilate us ten years from now? We have to try, Bones. They're a disease, and they're going to kill...they're going to kill this entire galaxy, if we don't stop them!"

"And how do you propose that, huh? Wandering around from planet to planet, hoping somebody's got a shiny new toy we can use against 'em? We tried that, already. Tried that for seven years. It's been workin' for a little while, but there's only so many places we can go now. It's time to give it up. I'm a Doctor, Jim, and there's a time when we gotta tell the patient that we've done everythin' we could. It's time to get the heck outta here while we still can. This isn't the Kobyashi Maru. You can't cheat your way out of this one."

Bones looked at his friend, seeing the toll of the war like it was a two-ton weight on the Captain's shoulders. He'd lost too much, too many crewmembers, too many friends...too many planets...

"I'm..." Kirk stammered, and he turned to look out the window. He knew that there was the very real possibility that Bones would have him declared unfit, and the crew would mutiny. Not that they'd leave him on a deserted planet or anything, but they'd simply mutiny out of their own safety and head over to some nice, clean planet in the Delta quadrant to live out the remainder of their days in peace and comfort, until the Borg came, of course. It was something of a feat and a testament to their trust in him that they'd stayed with him this far. But people could only be pushed so far.

"I'm gonna have to sleep on it," he finally said, trying to manage a smile. He had to think, and he needed time to think. He glanced at the sopping wet cup of coffee, lying on its side on the table. It reminded him of something...

"That's a good start," Bones gave him a firm pat on his shoulder. "You take the rest of the afternoon off. And that's an order."

With that, he too managed a smile, and left the galley. Kirk waited a few moments, until he was sure that Bones had gone.

He stayed staring out of that window for the rest of the evening.

* * *

"Good morning, Keptin!"

"Morning, Captain."

"Good morning," Kirk greeted the bridge crew, looking and feeling slightly more upbeat than yesterday. "Funny what a good night's sleep will do to ya." He sat down in his chair, placing his usual cup of coffee on the edge of the arm. "Where are we, Sulu?"

"Scouting the edge of the Atoll Nebula for planetary signals, Captain." It was usual practice, they were always on the lookout for new civilizations that they could trade with, and possibly get new technologies from. Despite the lack of Starfleet's hand, they still had a rough formation of the Prime Directive, and usually left the less advanced civilizations alone. For the most part.

"I'm getting a signal, Captain," Uhura said, a bit of astonishment in her voice. "It's quite close—and believe it or not...it's a Starfleet code. Wait—wait. We're being hailed!"

There was an audible murmur across the room. It could easily be a trap.

"Onscreen."

A lovely blond woman with piercing blue eyes filled the screen. She had shoulder-length blond hair, and a worried look. "I thought I'd never see another Starfleet officer again!" Her voice was desperate.

"Where are you?" Kirk stood up.

"We've had to disguise our signal a bit, but we're actually an old science station. Fortunately there's very little Borg activity in this sector...we've survived, and have been doing research. There's a few things that we'd like to tell you all about, if you're still interested in taking out those...well. Revenge is a dish best served cold, as the Klignons say."

"We'd very much like to talk about it," Kirk said, with a smirk. "To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?"

"My name is Carol. Doctor Carol Marcus. We may have found a way to kill the Borg."

The formerly fearful murmur turned to one of astonishment and excitement. Skepticism still reigned on the faces of his crew, but there was something else there, in their eyes. Hope, maybe.

_If I can't save you Spock...I can most certainly avenge you,_ Kirk thought bitterly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Marcus."

He was glad he'd kept her contact information after all these years. He'd met the one-time lab tech over a cup of coffee, and she'd written her name down on the bottom of it. He glanced at his own coffee cup, and smiled.

* * *

Somehow, in the movies, I want to see Kirk fight the Borg so bad. I know it's probably not going to happen, but can you _imagine_ how cool that would be? In any case, I had this idea some time before and made a story here called "Borg Dawn", but after watching "Into the Darkness" I decided to revise it and make Carol the main girl, instead of Marlena Moreau. However, this one is a bit closer to the prime universe where he met her when she was still a lab tech.

Also the reason why the Borg seemed to have flourished is because they assimilated Spock, of course. Terrifying thought. LOL! Thanks for reading and look forward to telling this tale!

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Paramount, and I hold no claim over them, and consider this story exercise fair use under commentary and education


End file.
